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[hello_there]

WHO: Character(s)
WHAT: Obi-Wan Kenobi catch-all open post
WHEN: Backdated to cover the vaguely handwaved span of October/late september
WHERE: Kirkwall (Hightown), The Gallows courtyard, ect
NOTES:

I. Obi-Wan at the Hawke Estate

Obi-Wan Kenobi lived in a lovely house in Hightown. He was the only Rifter who lived there, indeed the only one on the entire street. This was, of course, because the house did not belong to him. It belonged to the Hawkes.

Specifically, most recently, to Bethany Hawke.

He valued his friendships for other reasons, but there were times when it was truly, geniunely good to have connections. Hemight work for the Inquisition, but living outside of the Gallows provided quiet, and privacy, and the luxury of at least pretending that they didn't all live in a prison built to house slaves and worse. Specificially it allowed him to putter aorund the kitchen and pretend that his arrival 'home' was no more remarkable than any other such arrival. That nothing was wrong. That he need not think of the future, or the past, or any moment beyond the present.

That he had returned as whole as he had left. Surely, there was that at least. There would be no miraculous bacta, or cloned flesh, or sybernetic replacement. This would be his life, from now on and he would just... have to cope. Alone.

There was no sense in worrying anyone, really.


II.Catching up with Cody

The first thing you'll see of them is a ball. It's small and rubber and it's brown in a way that suggests it used to be red, before time and dog had gotten their way. Mabari need a lot of exercise, and young mabari moreso than usual. So the first thing, is the ball, and shortly thereafter, bouncing at least as chaotically, is the dog. It's a sand-colored puppy, big-pawed and lanky in the way of growing dogs everywhere and running with a gait like an ambulatory pancake.

Floppa-floppa-floppa— pounce!

And thereabouts, just as the dog turns to return its prey to the hand that threw it, is when you might catch sight of Obi-Wan, walking at a much more sedate pace, and using the ball's added doubling back to make up for the lack.


III. Getting Back On The Horse, So To Speak

Obi-Wan no longer made his main residence in the Gallows, but it was still a useful place to visit. For one, most of the Rifters were still there, and for another, it was one of the few places in Kirkwall that a man could sit cross-legged with many small and often shiny pieces spread out in the sun and be reasonably sure that all of them would be where he left them a moment ago. Obi-Wan is, slowly, and with great care, taking something small and delicate off his lightsaber. It's not a terribly graceful process, for the most part, hampered as he is by the lack of a hand, but between that handicap and the use of the Force, it's a chore that requires a great deal of concentration. He's grateful for that, for the ability to simply forget about pretension, to make mistakes, even stupid ones and strive only for the hoped-for outcome.

Of course, the actual reassembly does not require the use of hands at all. But it's the time that counts, the ability to lose oneself in the work, in the meditation of it. And to forget, until someone else's shadow falls over him, that he's not entirely alone.


IV. Wildcard

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Comments

[hello_there]

Obi-Wan considered that, and what he knew about Kylo Ren, about Ben. Named for him, a son of Leia, Anakin's grandson. That was something, though he didn't know what: an inkling of family. But in the nest moment the light of that flickered— ah, but hadn't it already gone to the Dark Side? If not in totality, then...

What's the point?


"Not all legacies are without value," He says, at last, because it's true even if he often doesn't feel it. Out on the bay, a seagull cries and the sound carries even past the thick, muffling walls of the Gallows courtyard; broken? No, the lightsaber wasn't the broken thing, here. Obi-Wan sighs at the components.

"Routine maintenance. Much of it can be repaired, but it's good odds that Thedas hasn't even noticed Selenium exists, let alone refined it to a purity that could be of any use," It's easy to be lively about this, technical details, shop-talk. This wasn't about fraught emotional values or judgements of opinion. Lightsabers might fail you, or break, but never for no reason, "I wanted to be sure I could still keep it in good repair. So far, so good."

[letoldthingsdie]

"Ah. I- I've had to maintain mine the same way. I don't exactly go easy on it." He twists the hilt in his hands, his gloved thumb sliding down the red wire protruding from the casing. It wasn't hard to cause damage to it when it was barely able to hold itself together in the first place.

"One of these days it might very well give out. I don't know. Ever since I... when I joined the First Order and bled the crystal... it's unstable but it's always worked." He sighs too, finally deciding to actually take a seat so that he can see Obi-wan's work.

"When I first built it, while I was learning from Luke, I knew I wanted it to be simple in design but something that also was familiar with how they were built in the old days. I'd read about the designs of lightsabers during my training, when he and I traveled with his other students. The vents keep the current from overheating inside the chamber."

His eyes scan over Obi-wan's blade, inspecting the craftsmanship. He had half a mind to pick it up and get a better look, just to see it, but kept his hands to himself. He wanted to learn from Obi-Wan, despite his misgivings about the Jedi. He was still a seasoned master and one who knew the old ways better than anyone. He was also the closest link to the grandfather he wished he had known.

"I keep to the same ideas when it comes to ships. I have a TIE fighter back home that I modified myself. Before coming here I used to run flight tests and keep notes. Here it's a bit different, obviously. We aren't able to fly." It was something he picked up naturally. He liked building things from his own hands and he loved flying. There were times he missed flying, but he still could build things if he wanted to.

[hello_there]

"You try much too hard," He observed, calmly. Maybe a bit too calmly, for someone who's down a hand and with his weapon in bits all over, "That's the root of most of your problems. That Crystal, the way you fight, the way you... talk, about the past."

Obi-Wan is silent a moment, then shakes back his sleeves to show the outcome of his last adventure; on the left, everything as it should be. On the right: an arm that abbreviated itself in an ugly stump, a scar still pink and healing. He looked at it, refused to look away, and accepted as much as he could of what must be borne. The reality of choice.

"You're fighting when you should submit, and when you do submit it's not because you've chosen to, it's because you're exhausted. Or outmaneuvered," The lightsaber's pieces shuddered on the cloth, then rose into the air, graceful, if slow. They came together with the same exaggerated care as that of a drunk setting down a glass, as if to prove by that care that he had lost nothing, and certainly not control, "Here."

He took the Lightsaber in hand, and offered it to Ben. Your weapon is your life, he had said. Well?

[letoldthingsdie]

"I try 'too hard', as you say, but not without reason. I never had anything but my grandfather's legacy, after my mother cast me out in fear." He could say more but he realizes he's doing it again - exactly the thing Obi-wan just pointed out, too.

"You're right. I just... my parents were too busy to listen. Not like you. You listen to Rey and sometimes to me. It's hard for me to just separate what happened with who I am, but I understand there are times when I should just leave it in the past." He was terrible at taking his own words to heart, it seemed. Let the past die indeed.

When Obi-wan holds out the blade for him he hesitates before taking it carefully into his hands. However, his gaze lifts to the empty stump where Obi-wan's hand used to be and his expression lifts in surprise with it.

"What happened to your hand?"

[hello_there]

"I made a choice. Nothing is without consequences," Obi-Wan replied, and then did not elaborate, "Go on."

Go on, Ben. This is not your grandfather's lightsaber, nor is it Luke's or Rey's. This is Obi-Wan Kenobi's, fashioned with a blue crystal, pure in the Light, calm, stable, utilitarian design. And here, the man himself, unarmed before you.

Because, for whatever reason, he's making a choice. Knowing what he knows, what Rey has told him, and what he's seen of you for himself, he is still holding it out, that choice, this weapon.

What will the consequence be?

[letoldthingsdie]

He can see the blade, held out before him. He could take it, and yet he still hesitated. He didn't quite understand what the gesture symbolized. Part of him felt like it was a choice being laid out before him, just as Obi-wan talked of choices.

"Did Rey tell you what happened?" He doesn't know how to feel. If Obi-wan knew what happened on his mission, surely they wouldn't be talking right now. Perhaps it was better he didn't know. He could pretend the lives he'd taken disappeared like ash between his fingers.